


Exes and Ohs

by Flyting



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Crack, Humor, M/M, Past Relationship(s), everyone is having a bad day, hero/villain teamups
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-10
Updated: 2017-12-28
Packaged: 2018-07-14 04:46:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7154162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flyting/pseuds/Flyting
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“Is there some kind of personal thing between you two?” Poe asks, glancing from one to the other. </i>
</p><p>  <i>“No,” Finn says, at the exact same time the general says, “Yes.” </i></p><p>  <i>They glare at each other before the general corrects himself, “No.” </i></p><p>  <i>At the same time, Finn says, “Well…”</i></p><p>  <i>“See, there’s definitely something going on here. I can tell. I’m very good at this sort of thing.”</i></p><p>Or, the one where Finn and Hux used to date, and everyone is having a bad day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It wasn’t shaping up to be one of the best days Poe Dameron had ever had.

For starters, he’d been captured by the First Order. Again. That by itself was generally enough to knock it out of the top ten. (The one exception there was a single day that held the dubious honor of being the solid best and solid worst at the same time, when the Stormtrooper marching him to his death suddenly took off his helmet and said, “ _This is a rescue_.”)

It was simple bad luck they ran right into a First Order light cruiser smack dab in the middle of nowhere, on their way back from delivering vital supplies to a resistance group on an isolated, Outer Rim mining world. Ever since the destruction of Starkiller Base, the Order had ramped up construction on their navy, putting pressure on planets under their control for more and more natural resources. The pressure lead to unrest, which lead to insurgence. The harder the Order tried to control their supply worlds, the more isolated pockets of rebellion cropped up. The Resistance was only too happy to lend a hand.

It was worse luck that the temperamental hyperdrive motivator on their borrowed freighter chose that exact moment to act up.

But Poe had been in worse spots before on his own, and this time he had Finn with him. Between the two of them, Poe knew there was no situation they couldn’t get out of. They just had to hold it together and figure out the right moment to escape.

Nobody- not Poe, Finn, or the First Order pilots- was expecting the cruiser to suddenly be ambushed by the Guavian Death Gang and boarded.

Blaster fire sounded in the corridor outside their cell, mixed with the heavy boom of modified percussive cannons.

“This just got interesting,” Poe muttered, one ear pressed to the blast door. Maybe that right moment was going to come sooner than they thought.

“Good interesting or bad interesting?” Finn asked.

“I think just ‘interesting’ interesting.”

Eventually, after the fighting has gone quiet, the door to their cell slides open. A sharp-faced humanoid woman, with white-blonde hair that contrasted sharply against her dark skin, leans in the doorway. Red-armored guards flank her on either side. She snarls, apparently startled to find anyone in the room.

“Who the kriff are you two?” she demands, in accented Basic.

“I’m Poe Dameron, this is my friend Finn,” he says quickly, bound hands raised in the galactic gesture of ‘please don’t shoot me’. “We’re not with the First Order. We were captured just before you boarded.”

“We just want to get out of here. Whatever your issue is with them, we’re more than happy to leave you to it,” Finn adds, raising his hands too when Poe elbows him in the side.

The woman leans back on one hip, her plate armor rustling. “Do I look like I was born on a Siobagh root farm to you?”

“It’s the truth, see?” Finn says, a little desperately, gesturing with his bound hands. “We’re not First Order. We’re with the Resistance.”

Normally, Poe would make more of an effort to cover up their affiliation, particularly around the Death Gangs, who ran a lucrative side-business as bounty-hunters and sellers of information, but since they didn’t seem to be on the best terms with the First Order at the moment. “Our ship broke down on a mission for General Leia Organa. We were ambushed and taken prisoner by the Order,” he says steadily. Even in the lawless Outer Rim, General Organa’s name had a little bit of weight to it. “The Resistance doesn’t have any dispute with you guys. All we want to do is go home. I’m sure we can make it worth your while.”

The woman considers, tapping the black metal fingers of a cybernetic hand on the doorframe. “If you’re Resistance boys, where’s your ship?”

Poe curses inwardly. “I don’t know. I think the Order might have set it adrift after they grabbed us.”

“Convenient.” She smiles. “It’s a good thing for you you’re pretty.”

“Thanks.”  
  
“Hey,” Finn frowns, offended.

“Throw them in with the other one,” the woman orders. To Poe, she says, “We’ll see if General Organa wants to make freeing you worth my while. If not, I’m sure I can find some use for you.”

“Well this day just gets better and better,” Finn sighs, as the red-armored guards hustle them out of the cell and down the hall. Poe doesn’t bother to struggle against the bruising grip on his upper arm.

So things hadn’t exactly improved, but they definitely hadn’t gotten worse either. At least the Guavian Death Gang was a whole lot less likely to torture them for information about the Resistance. On the other hand, they were more inclined to just shoot escaping prisoners first and ask questions later, so they had better be damn sure of any escape plan before they went for it.

What did they have going for them? They had each other. They were both alive and unhurt. That counted for a lot in Poe’s book. They were on a First Order ship, something Finn had said he knew his way around. Compared to a few hours ago, there were a lot fewer Stormtroopers between them and the exit.

Plus, that woman seemed to like him. He might be able to work with that.

Up against them: no rescue in sight, no plan, and enough cybernetically enhanced guards to, apparently, take out a small First Order cruiser. Whatever the Order did to piss off the Guavians, they hadn’t done it half-way.

“Hey,” Finn hisses, under the rasp of the guards’ breathing apparatuses. “Hey, Poe.”

“Yeah, buddy?”

“You trust me, right?” His eyes are fixed on what looks like an air vent set low to the ground in the hallway ahead of them.

“With my life,” Poe answers automatically.

Finn smiles at him, that embarrassed little half-smile he does when he can’t quite understand how anyone could want to care about him, would want to treat him like he deserves the entire universe on a plate.

“I’ve got a plan. I’ll be back for you.”

“I know you will,” Poe says quickly. Confidently.

Their hands are still locked together in front of them, both of them being manhandled along at angles to each other, but Finn manages to knock Poe’s left elbow with his right. It’ll have to do.

Right before they pass the air vent, Poe stumbles, overbalancing and taking a knee. The not-too-bright guards nearly fall over themselves trying not to trip over him. Finn’s guard is slightly ahead. He turns, swinging his helmeted head around to look at Poe, his grip on Finn’s arm loosening just a little, and that’s all the opening he needs. They had practiced hold-break tactics for occasions like this.

Well, maybe not _exactly_ like this.

Finn drives his shoulder first into the guard and then jerks away while he- is it a he? It’s hard to tell under all that plating- fumbles with his blaster rifle. The grating on the air vent slides back when Finn hits the panel beside it, and before either guard can react he drops to one knee and rolls. Poe can’t resist letting out an enthusiastic little whoop of joy. The grating slides shut behind Finn with a cheerful little beep.

Cursing in some unfamiliar language, one of the guards aims his weapon at the air vent. The other swings the butt of his blaster rifle down at Poe’s face, and that’s the last thing he remembers before everything goes black.

 

* * *

 

He wakes up an indeterminate amount of time later, his head pounding and his mouth tasting like old bile, to a slow _drip, drip, drip_ of water on metal.

His neck is stiff. Rolling from where he’s lying on his face onto his back, Poe realizes that his arms are still bound together in front of him. “Oh come on guys, it’s not like I’m going anywhere,” he complains, mostly to himself, trying to roll the knots out of his shoulders.

They’ve left him in some kind of utility room with piping lining the walls. Pale blue emergency lighting makes everything look bleak and ominous.

Trying to get a bearing on the place, Poe notices that he’s not alone: a pale man in a torn First Order officer’s uniform is slumped against a console, curled over on his side with his eyes closed. Mottled bruising peeks out from under his open collar.

“Psst. Hey, red,” Poe says. “Are you awake?”

After a long moment, the man answers without opening his eyes, “Unfortunately. You’re alive, then. I was starting to wonder if they had left a corpse in here with me.”

Poe opens his mouth to answer. Pauses. Says instead, “Why would _anybody_ do that?”


	2. Chapter 2

The officer cracks open an eye to stare at him skeptically, like he’s just asked whether space was cold. “Intimidation.” The _obviously_ is implied.

Poe quite probably could have lived the rest of his life without those mental images. “Well, that would certainly intimidate me,” he mutters.

With some effort he hauls himself upright, groaning as his neck and back protest the sudden movement.

“You’re not one of them,” the officer says, as if realizing it for the first time. “Who-“ His eyes narrow. “Our Resistance prisoner.”

“Hate to break it to you, red, but I don’t think you’ve got any prisoners right now.”

Unbeknownst to Poe Dameron, General Hux was also having a terrible day. It had started off well, with a very good cup of caf and promptly-delivered intelligence reports stating that the native rebellion he had been sent to crush on one of the First Order’s core mining worlds had suffered heavy casualties in a skirmish the previous day. His entire mission was projected to be over before teatime tomorrow.

Before he had even finished his breakfast, however, things took a downturn that not even really quite excellent caf could make palatable. Somehow, a supply ship had gotten through the Order’s blockade, bringing the rebels a new batch of medical supplies and New Republic army-grade ion canons. It had to be the work of the Resistance, as-usual meddling where they didn’t belong.

On top of that, Hux discovered quite belatedly that the Junior Commander in charge of the mining world had initially tried to employ the Guavian Death Gang as mercenaries to help control the insurgency. He had panicked when they, predictably, demanded more credits to leave the planet than they had to come there in the first place. He had then tried to make the problem go away before Hux got there by simply executing the key Death Gang leaders sent to negotiate the blackmail. The end result was a half-dozen petty little Outer Rim warlords screaming for revenge, as if they didn’t murder each other all the time just for the fun of it. Another problem for him to clean up.

The day had just started to look up, however. He captured a suspicious freighter that claimed to be lost, but who Hux suspected were really the Resistance pilots who had broken the Order’s careful blockade. He had been planning to torture them for information just after tea, as a present to cheer himself up.

Naturally, that was when four Guavian Death Gang ships emerged out of hyperspace and General Hux’s day got decidedly worse.

Poe Dameron didn’t know any of this, although he probably could have guessed most of it if he felt inclined to try. Maybe not the part about the newest model food synthesizers on the light cruiser making a wonderful cup of caf- really, Hux was going to have to requisition a few of those for the _Finalizer._

In response to Poe’s quip, the general makes a face like he’s just been force-fed a lemon.

“A minor setback,” he says tightly.  “You’re still on my ship, and as these petty mercenaries have learned, it isn’t going anywhere without my approval.”

“Is that why they used you as a punching bag?”

Hux brushes one hand lightly over the ring of bruises creeping up his throat. He smiles faintly. “I don’t think they appreciated the fact that I locked all access to the main systems when they boarded.”

“Let me guess- a password, not a retinal scan or a fingerprint.”

“Of course.”

“So we’re dead in the water right now?”

“That’s right.”

“And am I right in guessing that there are more First Order ships on their way here?”

“As of-“ Hux considers, “Thirty-six minutes from now, when we suddenly fail to make our scheduled check-in, there will be. There’s a star destroyer already in orbit around one of the nearby moons. It can be here in less than an hour.  So, you see, I wouldn’t get too comfortable just yet.”

Sometimes Poe hates being right all the time.

There’s a thin, vicious smile on the officer’s face as he settles back against the console. Probably dreaming of torturing womp rats or making children cry or whatever it was First Order brass did with their spare time.

Poe runs a hand through his hair, the movement limited by the binders still on his wrists. This was- okay, so they had a time limit. He could work with this. Finn was out there somewhere. He would bust Poe out of here, and their best bet would still be to get to one of the cruiser’s shuttles. They could be long gone before that star destroyer ever got within range.

All he had to do was wait for Finn.

He blows out a deep breath. He could do this.

Poe shuffles back until he can lean against the wall, to take some of the strain off his aching neck. The officer watches him move, sharp but disinterested, like a lazy felinx that’s still deciding whether or not it’s worth the effort to pounce.

In the background, the leaky pipe goes _drip, drip, drip._

“You look familiar,” Hux says eventually. “Have we captured you before?”

“Yeah, actually,” Poe sighs. And that’s _not_ a memory he wants to drag up at this particular moment. “Your buddy Kylo Ren and I have had some great times together.”

To Poe’s surprise, the officer makes an disgusted noise in his throat. Rolls his eyes a little. “ _That_ monstrosity.”

“You guys too, huh? Guess there had to be one thing we agree on.”

“I don’t suppose the Resistance would like to do me a favor and shoot him?” The offer is only half joking.

“We’re trying.”

“Well, stop _missing.”_

The room lapses into an uncomfortable quiet.

_Drip, drip, drip._  
  
“So… Seen any good holofilms lately?” Poe asks. He can’t help himself. He’s never been good with awkward silences.

“No _,”_ the officer drawls without looking at him.

“Read any novels?”

“ _No.”_

“Yeah, you’re probably busy. Lot of galaxy out there to oppress. What are you- a captain? Lieutenant colonel?”

“General, actually.”

“Really? Good for you. Ambitious. You’re what- thirty? Thirty-fi-” Poe says.

“Actually I have seen a good holofilm recently,” the general interrupts.

“Yeah?”

“It’s the one where the Resistance prisoner _stops talking._ Maybe you know it?”

“Can’t say that I do,” Poe fights to keep a smirk off his face, pleased that he’s getting under the general’s skin. “But it sounds like it’s a classic.”  
  
“I found it delightful.”

“Don’t suppose there was a scene in there where the general took the binders off the Resistance prisoner?” He holds his arms up hopefully.

The general appears thoughtful. Finally, he says “I don’t recall one, no.”

“Yeah, I thought not.” Poe sighs. “I’ll tell you which holofilm I _loved_ though…” he continues, talking over the general’s frustrated groan.

 

Poe is halfway through explaining the plot to _Thief of Bespin_ while General Hux tries very hard to go deaf by sheer force of will, when the door slides open. A red-masked guard holding a repulsor rifle in both hands shoulders his way in, stopping just inside the door.

Poe goes silent. The general’s attention, previously drifting somewhere along the lines of listless malaise, sharpens on the new arrival.

The guard takes three heavy steps forward, stopping just in front of the prone form of Poe Dameron.

“Poe? I really hope that’s you, “ the guard says, in a familiar voice. “I can’t see anything in this helmet.”

“Buddy!” Poe crows, climbing to his feet to clap him on the shoulder as well as his bound hands allowed. He laughs. “You had me starting to worry there!”

With a little effort Finn pulls the red plasteen helmet off.  “You think I forgot about you?” He grins.

“Hey- I never doubted you for a _second_.” Poe jabs a finger into his red-plated chest for emphasis.

“What do you think of this?” Finn brags, holding up his arms, helmet in one hand, so Poe can see the stolen Guavian gang member armor. ”Huh?”

“I think red’s a good color on you.” Poe is beaming; he can’t seem to stop. He likes where this is headed. “Are we doing what I think we’re doing?”

“Oh, we are _so_ doing what you think-”

“The old ‘escorting the prisoner’-“

“Well, look who it is.” The general’s quiet voice cuts through their happy reunion like a vibroknife.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tfw you write fic to procrastinate writing another fic

Poe braces himself for the usual uncreative shouts of “Traitor!” that accompanied Finn running into any of his old First Order buddies. Those are usually followed by Finn, or Poe, or both, taking a shot at whoever was doing the yelling. He isn’t prepared for a quiet, chilly, “Hello, FN-2187.”

Or for Finn to flash a wide-eyed look like panic before clearing his throat, suddenly very interested in the floor between them. “General,” he says, stiffly.

The officer’s eyebrows quirk up at the title. He almost looks hurt.

“And I go by Finn now.”

The general nods once, stiffly. His lips are pressed in a thin line. “I see. Anything else I should know that you haven’t seen fit to tell me?” he says tartly, all sharp consonants and round vowels. The words sound dragged out of him, as if against his better judgement.

“Nope,” Finn says, eyes firm, popping the final consonant.

Poe glances from one of them to the other. “Is there some kind of personal thing between you two?”

“No,” Finn says, at the same time that the general says, “ _Yes_.”

They glare at each other before the general corrects himself, “No.”

Simultaneously, Finn says, “Well…”

“See, there’s definitely something going on here. I can tell. I’m very good at this sort of thing.”  
  
“Look, it’s not important right now,” Finn says. The general makes a sharp, bitter _hmph_.  “We have to get out of here fast, there’s a-“

“-a star destroyer on the way, I know.”  
  
Finn shakes his head, “More death gang ships, some kind of rival faction they’re worried is coming to steal the bounty. I overheard someone talking about it.” What Poe said seems to catch up to him. “There’s a star destroyer on the way?”

“Yeah, in less than an hour, according to this guy,” Poe jerks his head at General Hux, who leans his weight against the broken console, watching them with narrowed eyes.

Finn curses. “Then this place is about to become a war zone. We need to be long gone, like yesterday.”

“What’s the plan?”

“Fake escort, straight to the fighter bay.”  
  
Poe can’t help it- he grins. Their first date all over again. “You know I’ve been itching for another chance to fly a TIE.”  
  
“Yeah, just try not to crash this one.” Finn says.  
  
“Can do, buddy.”

“As revolting as this is to witness,” a voice drawls behind them, “You seem to be forgetting something.” Hux taps one pale finger against his temple, his eyes bright with malice.

The _computers_. The lockdown. It’s Poe’s turn to curse.  “Can you launch a fighter without the main computers?” he asks Finn, “Our buddy Red here has all nonessential systems on lockdown- it’s why the death gang stuck him in here.”  
  
Finn blows air out through his lips. “Maybe? There should be a manual release and the doors are on a closed system, so-“  
  
“No, you can’t,” Hux corrects, nastily. “All fighters now require system authorization from the main bridge to complete the ignition process.”  
  
“What? Since _when_?”  
  
“Since someone stole one _.”_

“Okay, so we need that code-“ Poe’s mind feels like a speeder with the throttle down and the parking brake on- full of energy but going nowhere.

“Yes, good luck with that.”

Poe has to fight the urge to wipe the smarmy smirk off the officer’s face.

Finn runs a hand over his shorn hair. He’s starting to pace “Did you seriously implement a complete policy reform over one lousy TIE? That’s- That’s so- _unnecessary_! Are you actually that petty?”

“You took advantage of a security flaw, I eliminated it.”

“You are such a controlling-“

“At least I’m not a _traitor_ -“

“Okay, what’s the deal with you two?” Poe interrupts. This was getting ridiculous.

Finn fidgets. “General Hux is… he’s that guy. The guy I told you about.”

It takes Poe a minute to catch on. Which guy- _that_ guy? He stares. “No. Wait, _seriously_?”

“Yeah…” Finn trails off.

“This is ‘that officer guy’ you used to date?” Poe gestures to encapsulate all of the… _this_ ness in the pasty, patrician young First Order officer.

“It was just for a couple of months.”

“Seven months.” Hux corrects.  
  
“You would count,” Finn mutters.

“Wait a minute…” Poe mentally backtracks, his mind latched onto something Finn said earlier. “Hux? _Starkiller_ Hux? This is the nutcase who destroyed the Hosnian system?”

“Yeah,” Finn sounds miserable. Hux gives Poe a mocking little salute of greeting.  
  
“And you two used to _date_?”

“I see you keep him around for his sharp analytical skills,” Hux says.

“ _Hey_ ,” Finn growls. “At least he’s not a psychopath who _blows up planets_. Seriously- what the hell was that?”

“ _Guys_.” Poe cuts in. He’s getting a headache. “Look, like it or not, for the next ten minutes we all want the same thing, right? So let’s just get to the hangar, get the hell out of here, and then we can go back to hating each other later. Okay?”

“Yeah, whatever,” Finn grumbles.   
  
“No.”

“ _What_?”  


“Whatever made you think I would help you?” Hux sounds genuinely perplexed.

“Did you miss the part where we’re about to be in the middle of a war zone between the Order and the Guavian Death Gang? Last time I checked you weren’t suicidal, Hux,” Finn snaps.

Hux eases back against the broken console, relaxing.   
  
“No amount of death gang castoffs stand a chance against a First Order star destroyer,” he scoffs. “At worst, my rescue is delayed past lunch. As pleasant as this little reunion has been FN-2187, I’m perfectly content where I am.”  
  
Poe considers, changing tactics.

“And what happens to you when that star destroyer gets deployed?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, the Guavian Death Gangs aren’t exactly known for their treatment of prisoners. They stuck you in here because they want you to unlock the computers. If there’s a First Order fleet bearing down on them, what makes you think they won’t just shoot you and cut their losses?”

For a moment Hux looks like he’s considering arguing. Poe can see the play of emotions on his battered face. Then his mouth presses into a sharp line like he’s just been force-fed a lemon. “ _Damn_ ,” Hux says.

That was more like it. Sneak across a ship full of Guavian Death Gang soldiers and steal a First Order TIE fighter with a planet-destroying nutjob, who also happened to be his boyfriend’s ex, in tow. And here he’d been worried today was going to be boring.

“Hey, don’t worry-“ Poe says, a grin spreading across his face. “We’ve done this before.”  
  
“You’ve stolen a TIE fighter before?” Hux follows them to the door.

“Yeah, actually. It was our first date.”

There is a pause and Hux’s face shifts from benignly unimpressed to outright fury.

“ _This is the prisoner you ran off with?”_ Hux snarls at Finn as the door slides shut behind them.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Holy crap it's done.

Predictably, everything goes to hell within ten minutes.

“Do you know how _embarrassing_ it is when you’re trying to restore order to the galaxy and your boyfriend runs off with the kriffing Resistance? _Kylo Ren still hasn’t let me hear the end of it_ -“ Hux snarls, picking off three Guavian Death Gang members in as many shots.

“Does _everything_ have to be about your creepy hatred for Kylo Ren? Just sleep with him already-” Finn fires back, ducking around a corner to avoid a blast.

“Guys, guys, guys- less arguing, more shooting!” Poe cuts them off.  
  
They’re pinned down in the hall just outside the entrance to the bridge. Poe doesn’t know if someone found the Death Gang member Finn ‘incapacitated’ or if their absence was noticed, but before they could get within two-hundred meters of the door, the shooting started.  
  
Poe darts a glance around the corner of the doorway and jerks back inside when a repulsor rifle bolt passes by close enough to singe his hair. There are two death gang members left between them and the bridge, but just his luck it’s the big guys, outfitted in more layers of armor than a Naboo princess had diamonds.  
  
He can see Hux and Finn, the latter still dressed in his stolen Death Gang armor, now sans helmet, sheltered in the opposite doorway.  
  
“Hey, Red-“ Poe shouts across the hall.  
  
“Would you stop calling me that?” Hux snarls.  
  
“There’s gotta be another way into that bridge- a maintenance hatch, an access tunnel, anything.”  
  
“Not unless you’re a droid. There’s an emergency hatch above you, but there are security doors inside, digitally encoded. Nothing gets through with the correct frequency.” There’s blood in his teeth, hair falling in his eyes as he fires on one of the Death Gang soldiers. He almost seems to be enjoying this. Figures.  
  
The shot lands but fails to penetrate that thick armor. But there- Poe sees what he needs. A downed mouse droid, upended in a pile of torn metal and debris, halfway down the hall. Poor little thing must have gotten caught in the crossfire.  
  
“You guys never make anything easy,” Poe mutters under his breath. Then, “Buddy, I’m gonna need some cover here.”  
  
“What are you- Poe!” Finn curses, but provides rapid cover fire as Poe dives for the mouse droid. He keeps low, close to the wall. Something is venting nearby, filling the hallway with just enough steam to make it hard to see. The floor is littered with bodies- Death Gang and First Order, the ones they hadn’t bothered to clean up yet. The Death Gang armor was thick, but it didn’t offer the best visibility and just his luck- they’re more concerned with the guy shooting at them than the guy creeping down the hall.  
  
Finn and Hux keep up a steady barrage of fire. _That’s right guys, keep looking over there, nothing to see here, don’t mind me-_ gotcha. He snatches the mouse droid up in both hands and turns just in time to see a blaster shot streak past his head, obliterating the piece of debris behind him.  
  
“Sorry. Missed.” Hux doesn’t even have the decency to look apologetic.  
  
Poe falls back under cover, the mouse droid tucked under one arm. It was out of commission but these things were sturdy, and the radio emitters were housed in a secure core inside. They were meant to double as emergency beacons if necessary. So long as it was still in once piece, this little droid would transmit its security clearance and get him into the bridge.  
  


* * *

 

  
Once Poe has disappeared up the emergency hatch, Finn gives Hux a sharp kick in the leg.  
  
“Ow! What was that for?” Hux frowns, rubbing his shin.  
  
“ _I saw that._ You _missed_?”  
  
Hux snorts, unapologetic. “Well, you can’t blame me for trying.”  
  
The Death Gang soldiers send another couple of repulsor rifle bolts down the hall, missing by a yard. Finn fires back at them, distracted, also missing.  
  
Finn hadn’t actually hadn’t dated that much before Hux.  
  
Okay, okay he hadn’t dated _at all_ before Hux.  
  
Hence, there was Hux.  
  
They met when he was in the program. Everyone knew Hux personally programmed the combat sims for the officer training pathways, so at first he didn’t really think much of it when he saw the General watching from the control room. Just once to start with, but then he started showing up more and more. It made FN-2187 a little proud, actually. He knew he was good at this – knew he was top of his class. He wanted Hux to see it too.  
  
Then Phasma told him the General wanted to talk to him.  
  
When he was done terror dry-heaving in the refresher, she’d marched him into Hux’s office and sat him down in a chair, and when he could hear again through the blood pounding in his ears Hux had asked him to help him design the new training sims for the lower recruits.  
  
He’d said things like ‘exceptional’ and ‘leadership potential’ and ‘brilliant’. It was the first time anyone had ever said anything like that about FN-2187  
  
So they started spending time together. More often than not Hux would pull FN-2187 out of whatever he was doing and have him brought to his office in the posh administrative floor of Starkiller Base. They’d spend a few hours looking over Hux’s outlines for the new simulations, FN-2187 offering advice on what he thought was do-able and what wasn’t and Hux would say, _well what about this_ and FN-2187 would say _that’s good and also_ and before he knew it they’d be well into the rest cycle. Sometime they’d get off-topic. Hux loved to hear about what it was really like in the Stormtrooper program on a day-to-day basis. What they talked about, how they spent their free time, even the stupid stuff, like the time Nines got his helmet stuck in the laundry shoot or how the new line of boots were impossible to tell left from right so you ended up with them on the wrong feet half the time and didn’t notice until you were out the door headed to a combat drop.  
  
The day after FN-2187 told that story, the entire compliment of troopers on Starkiller Base were given new boots. These with _right_ and _left_ clearly labeled on the soles.  
  
FN-2187 had never felt more like a holonet star than after he  casually mentioned at lunch, _yeah I had a word with General Hux about it, you’re welcome._  
  
Hux also liked to talk – anyone who had watched one of the man’s speeches could tell you that– so it wasn’t hard to get him talking about growing up under the Empire, or his goals for the training program, or planets he’d been to. It was nice. Better than mopping floors, any day.  
  
They had grabbed lunch together a few times, after running through the training sims. Hux seeming perfectly content- enthusiastic even- picking FN-2187’s brain over boring grey protein mush in the troopers’ cafeteria, so he didn’t think much of it at the time when Hux asked if he wanted to have dinner.

When ‘dinner’ turned out to be a posh, three-course affair in the general’s private suite, with real porcelain plates on the table instead of plasteel trays, and the lights dialed down to forty-percent, FN-2187 had frowned, confused. “What’s this?” he asked. There was no way this was all for him. Maybe Hux had invited another officer to meet him- he was always offering to do things like that, saying that FN-2187 needed to make connections, that he was too smart to stay a Stormtrooper. “Who else is coming?”

“Ah.” Standing beside the table, Hux’s cheeks had colored faintly pink. “I appear to have made a terrible miscalculation.”

Embarrassment was rolling off of him in waves, and it was then that FN-2187 realized.

“Oh- _oh_! This is a _date_?”  
  
“I’m very sorry,” Hux was saying stiffly, with all the expression of a droid, unable to look at him, “Please disregard all of this. I won’t bother you again.”  
  
He’s mortified and that, more than anything, sends a little pang of guilt through FN-2187.  
  
“No, hey- this is good. Dating is… okay.” True, FN-2187 had never given all that much thought to dating in general, except to notice that he wasn’t doing it. He was a Stormtrooper. It wasn’t exactly like they had social mixers. The Order was supposed to come before anything else.

But then, he reasoned, surely dating Hux was putting the Order first?  
  
“You could have at least had the decency to call.” Hux says, after a long silence. He actually sounds hurt. “To send a message- anything-“

Finn doesn’t buy it for a second. “Why? So you could try and stop me? Talk me into coming back? Or so you could use me to attack the Resistance?”

“No, because I was _worried sick_!” Hux even seems to surprise himself, his voice going shrill with emotion. “All I knew was that you had disappeared with some prisoner- I was afraid you had been _kidnapped_.”

Finn pauses, understanding slowly dawning. “You were worried about me?”  
  
They’re interrupted by more rifle bolts and Hux growls, returning fire over Finn’s head.

“ _Yes_. We were firing on the shuttle- I didn’t know if I was about to cause your death at any moment. I couldn’t sleep. I didn’t know if they were hurting you- what they had done to get you to help them. Then when I watched the security holos and saw that you had helped him escape _willingly_ , that you wanted to leave…” he trails off, his voice tight. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You would have sent me for reconditioning.”

“ _Of course I would have,”_ Hux says, fraught.

“See? See? This. _This_ is the problem.” Finn waves a hand in the air between them to indicate the gaping disconnect. “I don’t _want_ to have my brain scrambled. I don’t want to serve the First Order anymore-“  
  
“That’s them talking-“  
  
“No, it’s me. Really me. You never understood that.” He wants to tear his hair out.

“I understand that you were perfectly happy until _that… man_ came along and filled your head with this nonsense.”

“No, _you_ were happy. There’s a difference.”  
  
Hux looks like he wants to argue if he could just find the words. “Finn…”  
  
That’s when a door slides open down the hall and a cheerful voice says, “Hey big guy, surprise!”  
  
There’s a sound like stormtrooper’s riot baton and a smell of burning leather, followed by a pair of heavy _thuds_.  
  
“Alright guys, all clear!” Poe yells.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
Twenty minutes later they are all in the hangar bay and Poe is powering up TIE Silencer Hux had suggested they take with more excitement than is probably appropriate. “Oh baby you are gorgeous, yes you are…” Finn hears him babbling as he completes the ignition cycle Hux had broadcast from the bridge.

Every other door on the ship is on high-security lockdown, effectively trapping the Death Gang. Finn almost feels sorry for them once that Star Destroyer shows up  
  
Not that he plans to be there for that.  
  
“You ready to go?” Poe says, jogging down the gangplank of the TIE Silencer to stand behind him.  
  
“Yeah. Look, Hux… I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” Finn says, staring at his boots.

“I’m sorry, too.” Hux cups his cheek in one pale hand. With just as much sincerity, he says, “And I wish I could forgive you. I really do.”

Finn nods. Before he can pull away, Hux leans forward and swiftly presses their mouths together in a chaste, sweet kiss.

“The next time I see you, I’m going to kill you. After I kill him in front of you,” Hux murmurs lovingly into the space between their mouths. He bumps their noses together, then steps back smartly, breaking the contact.  
  
“And now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a few vermin to exterminate.” Straightening the torn sleeve of his uniform jacket, he turns on his heel and walks out of the hangar bay.

“Bye, Hux,” Finn calls after him, unalarmed.

“That went well.” At Poe’s raised eyebrow, Finn adds, “No, that was actually really chill for him.”

“Oh. Good. Well, let’s get out of here before he changes his mind.”  
  
“Right behind you.”  
  
They climb the gangplank and close the door behind them.  
  
“You do know this is Kylo Ren’s ship, right?” Finn asks as he slides into the gunner’s seat  
  
“Oh, yeah,” Poe grins.  
  
When he punches the ignition they take off out of the open bay doors like they’re jumping to lightspeed and Poe whoops with excitement.  
  
“Seriously though, any other high-profile relationships I should know about?” Poe mutters, two lightspeed jumps later, once they're sure they’re clear of that Star Destroyer. Once the coast is clear they’ll circle back around and collect the freighter.

“Well… There is one,” Finn says.  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“You might have heard of him. They say he’s the best pilot in the Resistance.”

Grinning, Poe kisses him.


End file.
